As the Sun Shone
by Isabel Juno
Summary: its sad.... i'm just gonna say that.... if you don't like sad fics then it probably wouldn't be a good idea to read this one....


As the Sun Shone

By Isabel Juno

Authors Notes: the beginning poem is written by myself and for anybody whose read my work you will notice a recurring theme…. And to be honest I don't know why but the theme fascinates me in a morbid way. Also my lack of ownership over CSI and its characters vexes me to no end someday i shall own them... soon my pet soon! but i do own the Poem... consilation prize i suppose... WOOT! READ & REVIEW PLEASE!

Shining, sleek, like the smoothest silk

As the sun shone

Knotted the soft tie

As the sun shone

Polished your shoes

As the sun shone

Fastened your belt

As the sun shone

Closed the door

As the sun shone

Cleared your throat

As the sun shone

Stepped into the shower

As the sun shone

Cool and refreshing

As the sun shone

The water cascaded

As the sun shone

Hands oddly steady

As the sun shone

Clothes became soaked

As the sun shone

Took a deep breath

As the sun shone

Slid the shining smoothness across your wrists

As the sun shone

Tears mingled with the rain of the pipes

As the sun shone

The waters turned pink then red

As the sun shone

You gasped

As the sun shone

The world felt as if it were quaking

As the sun shone

You fell to your knees

As the sun shone

Groping blindly for purchase

As the sun shone

All you saw was darkness

As the sun shone

The shining smoothness clattered on the porcelain coated bottom

As the sun shone

Your vision returned for a moment

As the sun shone

You saw the red disappearing

As the sun shone

Swirling in a whirlpool down the drain

As the sun shone

And in your last moments

As the sun shone

You shed one last tear

As the sun shone

Suicides were never something that Gil dealt well with. The idea of somebody taking their own life confused him almost as much as Greg Sander's hair. Today was different though, he sat staring into his large whiskey wishing it didn't have a bottom. Catherine sat with tears surfing their way down her face and into her oblivious hands. Greg looked like he was fighting back the tears and even his hair looked depressed. Sara was shaking and being held by an equally shaky Warrick. Nick had his head in his hands and his whole frame was shaking letting Gil know he was silently sobbing. In the course of a twenty second conversation with them he had reduced them all to this and it wasn't something he ever wanted to do again. He felt his eyes glaze over with repressed emotion as he fought back tears that were pleading to overtake him as well.

He'd just gone to see how he was doing. Warrick said he'd been upset. He'd used a key he had been given a few years before. He'd heard the shower going and knocked on the relatively sturdy pine.

Nobody had answered. He'd knocked and called his name several times and had threatened to call the fire brigade as a joke. Still, there had been no response. He'd been worried and had called one last time through the door and again failed to receive a reply. He'd slammed his shoulder into the door after finding it to be locked. His shoulder was still sore from that. The fourth time the door had burst open into an almost frigid bathroom. He'd hesitantly called his friends name before pulling back the shower curtain. He'd seen his friend lying there with the frightfully sharp, shiny, smooth dagger lying beside him. He was clothed in his best suit and tie. He was also horribly pale. Gil had screamed out his name and pulled his friend out of the shower checking for a pulse. Screaming for him not to be gone. But he was. Gil had felt an overwhelming wave of noxiousness take him over and the world swam around him. He'd fallen back hitting his head on the door and scrabbling up and tearing his way to the front door like a bat out of hell. As soon as he was out the door he stumbled tripped falling to his knees and expelling his stomach contents onto the forest green grass.

As soon as he'd recovered himself enough to stop vomiting he'd called Catherine and told her tersely to come to their friends house. When she'd arrived he'd been sitting on the porch steps shaking slightly. The look in his eyes was mournful and she'd entered dreading confirmation of what she feared had happened. When she entered the bathroom and saw his body and the shower still going she clapped a hand to her mouth and fought valiantly against the tears threatening to overtake her. She edged around the body and turned of the shower catching site of the knife in on the floor of the tub as well. Her tears sprang back to her eyes, unbidden and she made her way unsteadily back to the porch where Gil sat still trembling.

Now they all sat shaking, crying, and struggling to drown the pain in whiskey. Nobody knew why he'd done it. But they all knew they'd miss him. They all knew that the world was worse off without Detective Jim Brass.

Gil stepped out into the day in preparation for the funeral to come  
as the sun shone...

READ & REVIEW PLEASE!


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